In the end I had to taxi to the start, no real reason other than laziness and eagerness to get going. It was a lovely day, 20 to 24 degrees with sunshine. The early climbs did for me a bit but that is to be expected I suppose. I’m sitting at dinner laughing, an old git smelling of DeepHeat (that’s Voltarol, to you yout) and at the waitress getting a whiff each time she passes. It’s just like that pensioners hotel I used to go to for lunch in Bangor, though that was leavened with huge wafts of piss.
The start of the GR131 at Órzola opposite the Ferry Port.Órzola harbour. Things are blissfully quiet.The flamenco twins guard… not very much.Some lowish volcanoes to begin with. There is no green at all on any of the hills.Ah, but the cats need sheltering even so. The ‘fields,’ just volcanic ash. Which is quite fertile. The blackness doesn’t come out on the picture very well.Some vines have their own little boxes to keep out the chavs. Know how you feel love! Could have done with some walls on the flight over.See, fecund. I’m up that zigzag dark line.Just about to disappear behind the hill. Órzola down below. And maybe my last sight of the sea.Cardboard cut-outs. A woman in a hat and a caricature of a dog and a load of sticks. Hmmm.Looks like this volcano lost its bap at some point. I hope that place on the last day isn’t as steep as that. Tiny little terraces are made by brushing aside the volcanic loam – not too far – it’s too hot for that. To leave behind small plots for your vines etc.This guy has gone to the extreme, all his bays are marching away like a regiment of soldiers. That’s black volcanic ash they are sitting on, not tarmac. And the blessed sea. I yearn.Need a rest. The farmer’s on his way to move some more stones.He had two dogs and one of the mutts decided that I needed some company. Bloody thing just walks out into traffic. Everyone thinks it’s mine and shouts abuse at me.He’s going to get splashed. I’m turning off down that track, so hope he survives until then.Safe from the traffic once more. These are a nice pair. Pancho Dogo has taken off. Hope he gets home OK.Up the side of this one. You can see that eons worth of the black ash is lying under the surface.Just starting to peek out in the valley to the left is Máguez, last but one village before the end. No sign of any café con liete anywhere.Consumed by the waters – poor man.Leaving Máguez. Note the huge landslides on the slopes.Haría, and just as I turned the corner onto the main drag, the bus came along, so good timing. The first climb tomorrow is up past that military base and is the start of a much longer day.
Christ! this DeepHeat is strong. As if I didn’t have enough trouble attracting female company. It’s no good. It will have to be showered off before bed. Although today was hard, it is only to be expected. It takes a while for my aching carcass to start remembering what it is for. So, bring on the next.
